The Way Things Work Out
by Pen Is Ink
Summary: Javier escapes to America in an effort to flee Cuban persecution, and his landing in Miami, Florida brings him back to a place he never thought he could be. Told from Katey's and Javier's perspective, could be long.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I wrote this story with the intent of getting over the sad end to the movie. So far it's working, so I promise all my readers a happy ending. This could get long, it could get messy. If you're reading it, just try to bear with me. Have fun and enjoy!

If there was one thing she wished for, it was to stop time.

Her feet were moving, her hips swaying, her heart pumping and she was breathing so hard between her lips that they were drying. This was the moment she was longing for: her peak. She wished she could stop time right at this moment: to hold it, savor it, and never let the feeling drop.

This was dance.

The music would end abruptly in a few more moments. The audience would rise and clap. Marc would take her hand into his and he would bow, she would curtsey. This was the routine. Every evening for almost a year now, this had been the routine. It happened the same way at the tiny beachfront restaurant in Miami. Mostly the audience consisted of old women who smiled at her when she shook and flipped her head, an attempt for them to go back to the glory days. Katey loved the praise; she thrived off of it, and it was just another way for her to connect to dancing.

It was, after all, the only thing she had left.

His name refused to enter her head. Instead she blocked it out by stomping her toe when she should have touched it, a little way to get out her frustration. Men. Men had never been good to her. They used her. They broke her heart. They never fulfilled any promise of forever and Katey had at last come to understand that the only thing that was forever was this. This moment. This dance.

It was over.

Marc grabbed her hand. He bowed. She curtsied. They smiled. The hundreds of senior citizens munching away at their dinner stood up and clapped, wolf whistling and calling their husbands to join them and won't they please sit down and watch? Katey was used to it. She smiled back. She waved. She loved this.

"It's amazing, you know," she said to Marc after they had left the dance floor. "We do this show five nights a week and I'm still not sick of it."

"Katey, you're amazing. I'm never going to ask you where you learned to dance like this because if I do, I'll want to head right over to that school and I'll still never be as good as you." Marc filed his nails, smiling at her. "It's good money, too."

"I'm only doing this for the money," she sighed. She ran a towel through the back of her scalp. Sweat was an essential part of this.

"You are not," Marc said. "Don't lie. I see the way you look when you dance."

She laughed. "And how do I look when I dance?"

"Like you're in love."

She laughed again, hoping the wince on her face was invisible. "Just don't go falling in love with me."

"Don't worry about that, Gregory is enough on my hands." Marc saved himself exclusively for men.

"How did that night go, anyway?" It was inevitable to become best friends with one's dance partner. You spent so much time with them. Since she had really learned to dance, Katey had been partnered with several men. Marc had been second best so far: he could move his body and he knew how to assess his partner well. He was fun and he made good jokes. Marc could work hard and he took a criticism well. Although not too many people were aware of his homosexuality, they had grown close enough for him to be open about it with her

Second best, though. Always second best. She laughed inwardly at how ridiculous she sounded.

"Best night I ever had," he murmured. "I can't believe I waited this long for him, you know?"

"I know," she said. "Pass me your hair comb."

"Are you getting dressed already?"

She stared at him. Her clothes were already on. "Yes. I have to get home… Susie will be worried." Not to mention her parents. "And I have school in the morning."

Her decision not to go to Radcliffe but attend a local school in their new Floridian town had disappointed them. Katey had, after all, worked so hard to gain admission from the school. But her family had become an integral part of her life. Leaving people you loved was no longer an option for her. She would go at any cost to avoid it, and if that meant giving up something she had worked for then so be it. There were more important things to be concerned with.

"I love Fridays, when you don't have to go to school. I still don't understand why you insist on going. You're making money here. It's a good job. You could probably become a dancer if you wanted to." Marc raised his eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes. "Marc. You know I could never do that. I go to college because it was a personal goal of mine for a very long time."

He threw up his hands in defeat. "Have a good night, sweetheart. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

"We have a show this Saturday, don't forget," she called over her shoulder.

"For what?" he called back.

"You didn't hear?" She stopped in her tracks. "Someone is having their sixtieth anniversary celebration. They're doing it here, and they're i paying /i us," she added pointedly, "to dance for them."

"Jesus," he whispered.

"What?" she asked. "I haven't even told you how much we're getting paid and you're already freaking out!"

"No. I mean, just imagine. Being married to someone for sixty years." His eyes were very wide.

"Marc, you make me laugh," she said. "Now I really have to go. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

center /center 

Javier Suarez was at the beach.

It was midnight, and all he could do was keep the driftwood in the water from floating away while he held Carlos's son Rafael under his arm.

"You've gotta sit tight, okay?" he murmured. "Nobody can hear us. And you can't move. We have to do this, Rafael."

"What about your sister? And abuela?" He was whiny. No twenty year old man liked to be dealing with a whiny four year old kid.

But he had to. That was it. "Abuela's gone, Rafael. I told you that. Papa told you that." Oh, no. That was it. That was the end. He let it slip.

"Where's Papa?"

He hated this question. Rafael might have asked it eight times that night but there was no easy way to answer that. i We're abandoning your Papa because he was wrong. /i Or how about, i Your papa is nuts and he's never going to do anything good for you and I'm leaving so you're coming with me. /i Oh yes. That would go over very well with the kid.

He adjusted the pack he had slung on his shoulder. "Papa's not here, and we're probably not going to see Papa for a long time."

"Why?"

"Very good question, Javier. Why?" A deep voice startled him from his whisper.

He wasn't expecting this. He closed his eyes and swallowed. "Carlos."

"I don't know what you're doing out here, but you better get back home or else I might think you are kidnapping my son."

"I'm not kidnapping. He's my nephew."

"Get home, Javier."

"No."

"Excuse me?" Carlos looked startled. "Give me my son," he growled.

Javier strengthened his grip on Rafael. Carlos could beat him. He could probably drown him and take Rafael. Despite the fact that they were brothers, if Carlos had to make a choice, Javier was not sure which he would choose.

"I cannot do that, Carlos." Javier looked around. "Come with me. Come with me instead of staying here and rotting in this mess of a country."

"So I was right in my suspicions. You are leaving. Where to, Javier? To Mexico? Or to that filthy place called America?"

"Things are not better here, Carlos!" he hissed. "This isn't up to you. I have to do this."

"Then give me my son."

"I can't let you ruin him." He glared.

"Papa died for this."

"No." Javier shook his head. "Papa died for our freedom. This, Carlos… This isn't our freedom." He paused, his Adam's apple shaking slightly. "I'm going to America. Go. Run. Tell everyone. Tell Castro, I don't care. But when you get back, I will be gone."

"Is this what you did with Sandra?" Carlos murmured, his eyes fierce. "Put her on a boat and send her to America?"

Javier stayed silent. "I have to do what's right for my family. I have to keep them safe."

He suddenly heard an echo of a voice in the back of his mind. i That's the most important thing… /i "That's all I can do."

"That is what I'm doing."

"No, you're not. And I'm afraid till we see eye to eye on that you cannot have your son back. I am leaving tonight. Tell, if you want to, but the biggest favor you might do your family is to keep it a secret." Javier sighed, bending over to tie the last piece of driftwood to the raft.

There was a long silence.

"Where are you headed?" Carlos said finally.

"I don't know. Wherever we land. I don't know America." Javier wondered if the place called St. Louis could be anywhere near Cuba.

"Do what you must." He turned around and walked away silently.

Javier studied his figure. I That was a long time coming. /i "Get on the raft, Rafael. And hold on. It might be a long ride."

Rafael was asleep. The raft moved against the waves, bringing him back to a place when things were peaceful. The waves reminded him of something.

He hadn't danced in years.

A/N: Coincidentally, I leave for Mexico tomorrow morning. At best I'll be able to get up another chapter tonight, but I promise to have one up Friday night if you review! Thanks! -Kiki


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for making the long wait! To the people who reviewed, I appreciate it tremendously, and if you're just reading it would be awesome if you could take a moment to click the submit button. I like to know my readers and what they want. Mexico was gorgeous, I'm still hyped and ready for this fic (being in Diego Luna's home country helped!), and so I hope all of you are too! Just so you know, there is a problem with the HTML for some reason, and my stars don't show up. So whenever you see a series of As, that's equivalent to stars. Thanks!

Rafael was seasick.

Javier wished he had brought something with him, a bag or maybe just a handkerchief, to let the child vomit into. It had been happening for days now. They would eat the small rations of dried nuts and papaya that Javier had prepared (bread was not too common or too cheap these days), and Rafael would throw them up. They had been at sea for over four days, and all that seemed to be happening was the child had gotten thinner. Javier considered giving up his rations in an effort to give Rafael more, but he realized this was pointless. The boy would only throw it up. And every time he threw up, he was leaning off the side of the raft, his tiny body practically thrown into the sea by the waves.

i I need a bag /i . Javier looked around the raft desperately. There were only a few moments to spare as Rafael slept through his nausea. He was trying to avoid sacrificing the satchel; if the rations and map were set free, they could just as easily fall into the ocean.

i But what's more important? /i It wasn't difficult.

The satchel was emptied. He stuffed the only map of America he had been able to find into his back pocket, and left the rations spilled across the raft. Everything Rafael did would have to fit in here.

Rafael stirred. "Javier?"

"Yes, Rafael?" His voice was raspy. Four days at sea with a minimal water supply and only nuts to eat would do that to you.

"When are we going to get to America?" He yawned.

Javier sighed. To be honest, he had no idea. He wasn't even sure if they had set off in the right direction. They could be heading for Mexico or worse, South America. He wanted to be in the United States, but was there any guarantee that that's where they would land? Of course not. But there was no way to explain this to Rafael. "Soon, I hope."

"Should we row the raft some?" He stuck his pudgy hand out into the water.

"Ay!" Javier practically shouted. Rafael withdrew his hand. "You don't know what's in that water, okay? We can't row it. I'm sure we're almost there." He hoped so. The rations were almost out, judging by the spilled contents of the satchel.

"Didn't you want to go to America before, Javier?"

He wished Rafael would stop talking. "Yes, Rafael."

"With that girl? Who came to the house?"

"You were young."

"I remember Abuelita talking about it." He yawned again. "She said you wanted to go. She said you were friends with that girl."

"I was friends with her," Javier replied. "We were good friends."

"I wish you could still be friends with her, because then she could tell us how to get to America faster." Rafael closed his eyes and fell flat backed on the raft, causing a slight tilt against a wave and a splash mark on Javier's shirt.

He had a point. Katey might have helped him, if he had stayed in touch. But he knew the chances of seeing her again were little to nothing, and these days he almost never thought of her but for in passing. He remembered the address she had left, the one sealed in his memory from staring at the paper over and over again…

Seventy-three Church Hill Road, St. Louis….

It had been his choice not to write to her. He never picked up a pen, a paper, and shoved the world of dance into the back of his mind. There were other things to concentrate on now. There was no time for dancing or beautiful girls who stole your heart.

There was poverty. There was the lack of food in the house. There was Carlos, the traitor. There was his mother, who was gone. There was Sandra, who he had sent off with a friend to America and had not heard from since. And most importantly, there was Rafael, who was here with him now.

"You're all I've got," Javier murmured, staring at the child with a mix of fondness and determination in his gaze.

If he had thought of ever starting a family it had not been now. He had a child to support, and the work in America would be good. He felt shame in leaving the country his father had worked so hard to build, but ultimately there were no regrets. i He would not have wanted his children to grow up in a place where they would starve. /i 

Though at the moment, Javier was doing no better in provisions than his country had done. Rafael stirred again. He would be hungry soon. And then there would only be two rations left, enough, perhaps, for a few hours. He didn't know how much longer they could stand this.

Rafael squinted. "Javier?"

"Yes?"

"What's that? Is that America?"

Rafael had the tendency to mistake large sandbanks for America. Javier could not blame him. It was pitch black, after all, in the nights.

"No, Rafael."

"No, look! Look, Javier! It's America!"

Javier first looked down at the sea, but there was no hope in telling whether the water was shallow. He turned around.

And there was land. "Rafael! We've found land! Land!" He whooped with joy, throwing the child over his shoulder in a hug. "I promised you I would get you out of there, Rafael."

"Is this it, Javier? Is this America?"

How could he have not noticed it before? They were already so close to shore, they were practically feet away. Soon they would be able to wade in to the beach. But there was no proof that this was America.

"I don't know," Javier said. "It could be… We could be anywhere, Rafael." He looked down at Rafael's small, disappointed face. "But wherever we are is going to be better than where we were, I promise."

"There's a sign! Read the sign, Javier, read it!"

The sign was in English. It was only visible if he squinted his eyes and tilted his head to the left. "It's dark, Rafael, we'll read it when we get there."

"Read it! Read it!"

As they approached the sign drew closer, and Javier smiled as he read aloud a name he had become very familiar with on his map.

"Miami Beach."

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

She really wasn't ready when Frank called her.

"It's just that…" She sighed. "I had a really long night, and the show was good, but I'm just so tired. Can't you understand that? I have school tomorrow."

"Well, it's not like you have to curl your hair or anything." He sounded whiny. Thank God she'd said no. "I'm not expecting you to be gorgeous."

Why did she even see this guy? "I'm sorry, Frank. Good night."

"I said the wrong thing didn't I? It was the gorgeous thing. I'm sorry, Katey. Let me ask you again." He cleared his throat.

"I said goodnight, Frank."

He cleared his throat a little louder. "Katey Miller, please come out with me tonight? The dinner and dance bar is a very nice place."

"I work at a dinner and dance bar, in case you forgot, Frank. It's not like all I want to do is dance." She wasn't good at lying through her teeth. Strike one.

"Yes, but it's not like this, all the couples will be dancing here. And I just want a date, Katey, please. Don't make it so tough on me."

She suddenly felt guilty. She i was /i tough on Frank. He was only trying to romance her the way a girl should be.

"Frank, I… I want to go out with you. But really. I don't like dancing for fun. I'm more the quiet, stay-in type." Strike two.

He sighed, his voice thick on the other end of the line. "I understand."

"How about tomorrow night instead? I'll cook," she promised quickly. Appeasement after disappointment was something she was good at. Frank loved her cooking.

"That sounds great. I'll be there at seven."

"Perfect. Good night, Frank."

"Good night, Katey."

Katey felt horrible. It wasn't that Frank was a bad guy at all, and neither was it that she didn't want to spend time with him. He was cute and he liked her. He saw her dancing when he came to dinner with another woman, and he was quick to return and get her number on his own.

It was more that she was afraid.

Dancing outside of her work was not something she made a practice anymore. Dancing on a date was strictly off-limits. Being emotionally connected to someone while dancing was something she felt she could no longer experience because she had experienced every facet of it: she'd fallen in love and broken her heart, dancing the whole way through.

Javier was in her past now and she had no intention of changing that. She didn't know where he lived and returning to Cuba was, of course, impossible. Two years after leaving him she still felt a slight resentment that he had not listened to her when she warned him that things might not get better, that he had chosen to stay in his country. But then again, it had always been in his choice. He chose to start what they had, and he chose to end it by never writing. It tugged at her till she sometimes felt she might explode, and so she relied solely on the memories of his legs brushing her knee, his hand guiding her back, and the slight toss of his head to remind her of her life in Cuba. Dancing was the gift Javier had given her, and she would use it fully. The gift of love, however, was one she kept private and would not let the two intermingle anymore.

Susie insisted she was afraid. "You just don't like Frank." Susie had always been very honest, and, no pun intended, frank about her opinions on things, especially men.

"I like him, Suse," she insisted. "I just don't want to dance so much because I dance all the time at work. Is that so hard to understand?"

"You never used to think dancing was work." The implied image of Javier was sprinkled in the statement.

"I never used to dance as a living." Katey could lie logically. She prided herself on it.

"Whatever, Katey. When you're interested in being happy, we can talk."

"I am happy!" Katey had called after her sister's retreating back.

That wasn't a lie. Katey was satisfied. She had no reason to be sad or not content. Happiness, she had learned, was miles away. With the sacrifices she had been forced to make in her life, happiness was as much of a possibility as Javier running into her on the street.

"Yeah, right."

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

One room and a bathroom.

That was it. The kitchen was adjacent to the tiny room. There was no furniture inside. With what little money he had left from the down payment for this tiny apartment Javier would have to buy some blankets and some food. They could acquire the rest over time, as money allotted.

"You like this, Rafael?" He hoisted him onto his hip.

"It will be two hundred dollars per month," the old landlord grumbled. "You pay fifty dollars now."

And there it was. Almost all of his life savings had disappeared. The emergency money was all of what he had left, a measly eight dollars. Would that buy him one blanket and some food? Javier wasn't sure.

"I need a job."

The newspaper was lying on the ground outside someone's house. He had pocketed it on the way to the first available RENT sign he had seen, half dripping wet from wading to the shore.

He glanced through the classified ads, searching for anything that didn't require much experience. "All of these want me to have a degree, Rafael… I'm not too sure that's going to work out."

In the end, he found two available jobs: a car mechanic (although his experience with cars was limited to painting them, he could tell an engine from a carburetor) and an unspecified job with a fancy dinner restaurant.

"This restaurant does shows every night, Raffi, look! They dance." Javier laughed a little, wondering how good the couple was. "We should go see how they do tonight after my interview, huh?"

Rafael was fast asleep, but Javier was enthusiastic.

"I haven't seen good dancing since Katey Miller left Havana."

He was surprised he could work up the courage to say her name.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

A/N: It was long, hope it was worth the wait! I know, I'm evil, I'm saving the first meeting for the next chapter, and I would loooooove some reviews! I'm open to suggestions, ideas, criticism, and (of course) praise.

-Your faithful friend and author, Kiki


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: If I've posted this chapter, it means that over five people have reviewed. Please keep them going, because I promise it makes me write faster. If I don't have motivation I just lose interest. So please, I know some of you are reading and not reviewing, but I beg you to try! I'm done begging…. now. Anyway, I know I left you with a cliffhanger last time, just a bit, but I couldn't resist. Hopefully this will satisfy all your drooling tongues (even the non-reviewing ones!).

Katey Miller's dancing shoes were poking into her back.

The walk from her three bedroom house to El Ritmo, the dinner and dance bar she worked at, was long but not tiring. She liked a brisk walk for a warm up, so that the minute Marc walked through the door, five minutes late as always, she could jump right into things. Being a normally organized person with a well thought out plan, Katey was reckless in her dancing.

She passed the usual hordes of Mexican and Cuban men surrounding the restaurant's area at this noontime. All had been subject to a cruel government, and they had all wound up in Miami.

_He really must have liked it there_, she thought. Why else would he stay, even after, as she had predicted, Castro's new regime was just as horrible as Batista's?

"He" was not Frank. "He" was someone else.

_Someone you are never going to see again_, she reminded herself. Oh, well. There was no use crying over spilled milk.

Right?

There was work to do. Lots of it. She pushed her way into the restaurant.

"About time you showed, darling."

"Marc?" She looked up, startled. "What are you doing here this early?"

"They're looking for another bartender," Marc said, taking a quick puff from his cigarette. "I was supposed to open the doors in case anyone comes."

"Has anyone come?"

"Just one, and this is ridiculous, if you ask me. Who's ever heard of a dancer being forced to open the door to the unemployment? I'm not in charge of hiring them." Marc literally fumed from the mouth. "Two people are supposed to come and the first guy has been in there for an hour with Jess."

Jess, their employer, was a tough guy. He didn't take bullshit, and if some guy had been in there for an hour, Katey pitied him.

"Ouch," she said with a smile. "All right, you want to warm up?"

"Sure, let's stretch." He sat on the floor in a straddle.

Katey followed suit.

"How was school?" he asked with a smile.

"I hate how you ask me that," she said good-naturedly. "Like I'm a kid."

"Katey, you are a kid. You're still in school."

"I'm two years younger than you!" She laughed. "Try pushing your stomach into your knee, you get the stretch better. And school was fine."

He shifted. "Where did you learn that?"

"My parents," she said, shrugging in the best way one could when your nose was pressed between your legs. "They were dancers, I thought I told you."

"You did. I though they only danced classically?"

"They did. But you know. I danced my whole life, I've picked things up here and there."

"I love how you always skirt the question as to where you were trained. Is there a secret society of dance I don't know about or something?" Marc squinted. "Shit, this hurts, Katey."

She laughed. "It'll hurt the first few times, but I promise your thighs will thank you."

"So?"

"So what?"

"So is there some secret society?"

"No, Marc, there's no secret society, and you don't have to think that. I promise you I've never really been to a dancing school before." She sighed. "As I've told you at least a thousand times."

"You can't blame me for asking." He winked. "I'm really going to die in this stretch."

Katey stood up. "You won't. Lift your head. You get a spine stretch that way, too."

"So what are we going to do for Saturday night?" Marc said lifting his head. "Aaahh…. I really wanted to finish my cigarette and now you've got me in pain, Kate."

Katey ignored his latter statement. "I think we should just go with the first routine we had. Remember? When you came to El Ritmo the first time last year?"

"We haven't done that in ages. I don't even remember if you turn twice during the second half of the song or if I dip you. And can this band even play that?" Marc was standing up and looking at her skeptically.

"Well, I don't really know what else we can do. I mean, we can get back into the groove of things, and I'm sure the band knows the song. Jess keeps all the old sheet music around." Katey grinned. "If not, we can always just improvise."

Marc groaned. "Katey, please. I'm terrible at improvising."

She waved her hand impatiently. She understood the world Marc was trapped in, inside his head and following a routine. She could live in that world. Sometimes she hardly understood why she got so excited with the prospect of freedom. Life was easier when you knew what was coming.

"Don't worry," she said. "I was kidding. We can just follow the routine, Marc."

"Should we try it?" He glanced at the box of vinyls in the corner. "I think there's a record of the song in there somewhere."

"I'll help you look."

They were on all fours searching through the records when Katey heard the back door slam and Jess's voice yelling, "WELL FINE JUST BE HERE AT SEVEN AND DON'T TELL ANYONE!"

"Jess?" Katey called. She turned to Marc. "Do you think he's all right?"

"He sounds pissed," Marc said with raised eyebrows. "I don't know if we should even try."

A young man with golden blonde hair and thick brown eyebrows walked out of the room with his hand on his forehead. "Jesus Christ… You try to get help these days…"

"Jess, what's wrong?" Katey asked, standing up again. So much for warming up.

"Nothing, nothing… It's nothing." He was faking tears.

Katey rolled her eyes and laughed. "Jess. Please."

"That loser just walked right in here and expected a job!" Jess threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Well, what was the problem?" Marc asked with a smirk. "I figured most people applying for the job would want it...?"

"Thank you, smartass," Jess snapped. "That's not the point. I thought he was kind of fishy, because his accent was still really strong and he didn't seem to know his way around town, but… I never thought…"

"What didn't you think?"

"He's not even an American citizen!" Jess sputtered. "I asked him for his birth certificate for verification and he told me straight out that he just floated up on shore two days ago!"

Katey had to suppress a laugh. Jess got so angry so easily. "Jess, it's not a big deal. Lots of people have illegal aliens working down here. The police doesn't even check up on you."

"YES, they do, Katey, YES they do." Jess shoved his pointer finger at her. "I am in charge of this establishment!"

"Okay, it's fine!" she said. "Calm down. It's up to you."

"I know. I hired him."

"What?" Marc looked at him incredulously.

"Why are you so shocked?" Jess looked defensive and a little hurt.

"You just made it pretty clear you hated the guy…" Marc trailed off.

"I hired him. He said he had bar experience in his native country, he can speak English, plus the other kid that called sounded like a teenager and I don't want any teenagers working here."

"I'm still nineteen," Katey piped. "I work here."

"But you're a dancer. The laborers need to be old enough to actually drink alcohol."

"I can drink." Why did everyone here treat her like she was a kid? This was worse than being with her parents.

"Anyway, he'll be here at five. He has a kid and he wants to meet you guys… Seems he's a big dancing fan, or something. I don't know. But be nice. Employee interaction is absolutely integral to the-"

"-success of a future business establishment," Katey and Marc finished for him together.

"Right. Good." Jess seemed flustered. "Well. I'm glad you got the point. I'm going to… You go rehearse. What are you doing this Saturday?"

"Do you still have the sheet music from our old routine? The first one from when Marc came?" Katey asked.

"It's in the back, I'll give it to the band." He looked at Katey. "Thanks for doing this for me. It's good money, I promise."

"Jess, I do this for fun. You know that." She smiled.

"Well, we all wish you'd take dancing more seriously," Marc said.

"Keep working guys, I have to get some paperwork done. Be here when the new guy comes in."

"Wait, Jess," Katey called. "What was his name?"

Jess paused. "I don't remember. It started with an 'h' I think"

"Let's get to work, Katey," Marc said, stuffing his feet into his shoes.

"Yeah, sounds great," Katey replied distractedly.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Javier and Rafael left the room around five o'clock.

The stupid white man at the restaurant told him that if he and Rafael wanted to watch the dancing they'd have to come two hours before the opening. He was a yeller, Javier could tell. He was very work oriented, and it was the least Javier could do to tell him the truth about his citizenship, or rather, the lack of it. The truth had cost him the job at the car mechanic, but he had stayed inside the man's tiny office and fought for one whole hour. He needed the money, that was the bottom line. Explaining to this man named Jess that he had to support his nephew, that he didn't even have enough money for a box of cereal, that he still knew how to make a margarita…The explanations had to be done.

Eventually, he knew, he would make a way for himself. This was the now, and the starting point was never the best. _At least it can only go up from here_, he thought.

El Ritmo was nothing like La Rosa Negra and that was the first thing he noticed when he stepped into the place with Rafael. Some saxophone music was playing, and there was only one couple on the dance floor. It was obviously a show of some kind.

The man dancing was oddly flamboyant, he noticed, but he moved well. However, he was stiff in a way that bothered Javier; like there was some kind of a game plan in his head that he could not stray from. His steps needed polishing, and the way he guided the woman was as though he was not guiding her at all.

In fact, she seemed like a free entity. Javier liked the way she danced, like she was full of passion. It seemed he had only encountered few people in his life who could dance the way she was, and only one of them had been a pale skinned blonde girl, as this one was. Perhaps there was a rare gene in their race that made itself scarce but for once in a while. The way she danced so strongly reminded Javier of Katey he had half the instinct to take Rafael away and never come back, but he reminded himself that Rafael would need dinner, and he would have to provide it.

Even from his far away corner where he could not see their faces, he heard the music stop and saw the man point to him. There was a gesture to tell the woman to wait, and he strode over the Javier and Rafael.

Suddenly Javier felt very small next to this man who was at least two heads taller than him. He clutched sleeping Rafael closer to him and smiled sheepishly.

"Hello," he said. "I'm Javier."

"I'm Marc," the man said, shaking his hand. "You're the new bartender?"

"Yeah," Javier replied. "We just came to see the dancing," he said, gesturing to Rafael. "We won't get in your way."

"Oh, no, it's no trouble," Marcus said. "Sit down, I'll show you the bar in a minute."

"You are very hospitable," Javier said. "I have dealt with many Americans and not all of them are very nice."

Marc raised his eyebrows. The implied question of, "Then why are you here?" hung in the air. Instead he said, "So how are you here?"

"I found my way around," Javier replied secretively. It was not this Marc's business to know how he came, or where he was from. He trusted no one in this country.

"And where do you plan to go? Eventually, I mean. Would you stay here in Miami?" Marc smiled. "We have fun here at El Ritmo. It's not much, but we have fun." He gestured in the background to his partner, who had lifted her leg in a stretch.

She looked so familiar. "I have thought about it. I would like to take Rafael to a good place where I can make a means."

"He looks just like you." Marc smiled again.

"He's my brother's," Javier replied coldly. "His name is Rafael."

"Oh, I see." Marc at least had the sense to seem embarrassed. But Javier did not regret his comment in a new workplace; the assumption made was far too big to correct. "Would you like to meet my dance partner?"

He shrugged. "Okay."

Marc turned around and gestured to the girl. She ran over.

And suddenly Javier realized why she was so familiar.

His eyes widened.

His jaw dropped.

She didn't even look at him.

"Hi, I'm Katey!" She tossed her hair back. "This is Marc, and you are?"

He swallowed. He looked at Marc, who was studying intently. He was sure that every emotion must have appeared point blank on his face. He couldn't lie. She had to know. But how could this be her? He had never been surer of anything in his life.

Javier cleared his throat.

"You know me."

And she looked up then, and it was like looking at an old life with new glasses. He could hardly stand. He wanted to reach out and make sure she was really there. He wanted to grab her, hug her, kiss her, something, anything at all. But he kept his hands drawn firmly at his sides, and as she looked at him, he knew she knew.

She studied him with an expression first of questioning, and then of understanding. "Javier?" she whispered.

It was all he could do to nod.

"What are you doing here?" She was confused. She wasn't happy to see him.

He smiled. "I'm here for a job."

"Wait," Marc said. "You two know each other?"

Katey stepped closer to Javier, still studying him. "Oh, God…"

He took her face in his hands then and looked at her, really looked at her, felt her hands on his forearms and remembered what things were like not so long ago when he was happy.

"I don't know what to say," she murmured as she started to smile. "This is… it's a lot."

"Yeah, it's a lot," he said with a laugh. He stroked her cheekbones gently. "But I'm here now. I'm here."

"This is a miracle!" Katey yelped as she started to cry.

He didn't know what to do. He could have cried himself but he was smiling so far and wide that he just couldn't seem to stop.

They hugged for what seemed like eons of things feeling right. "I've missed you so much," they murmured to one another and it was all he could do to stop himself from kissing her.

Marc's voice drew them back into the real world. "Would somebody please tell me what is going on here?"

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A/N: I could end it here, but I've set things up as far as Frank is concerned and I have some plans for him. You might not hear from me for a day or so because I have some moving to do and things like that, but do expect another update in less than a few days. And remember: REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to get this up, guys! There were school problems involved, even though school hasn't even started, and I wasn't really into the idea of updating when I was so stressed. But here it is, straight from the cat's mouth, and I hope you like it!

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Katey leaned against the rail of El Ritmo's back porch, facing Javier. It was getting dark.

"Rafael's gotten big," she said with a smile.

"I know," he replied. "Kids tend to do that."

There was a pause.

"So how are you?" he asked.

"I'm great," she said. "I mean, I've been great. Things are great."

"I thought you were in St. Louis?"

"My family was relocated to Miami from Cuba." Katey sniffed. The first move had been hard enough, but getting over it had been harder.

He grinned. "It was a good thing we landed here, then."

"I guess so." She felt herself smile despite the unsure tone of her voice.

"I really have missed you."

"I've missed you too." And she meant it.

Another pause made Katey feel the weight of the question begging to be asked.

"How did you get here?" she blurted out. "I don't understand. I thought you liked it there."

His brow furrowed. "What makes you say that?"

"You never wrote me a letter," she continued, standing straighter. "I gave you my address and you never wrote once, you never told me how you were, you never asked about my family… I just assumed you loved the way things were." The bitter tone in her voice couldn't be helped. She was angry. How dare he show up like this without any warning? How dare he even say he missed her?

"Letters have nothing to do with it," he said, also standing up. "It's more complicated than that. You don't understand."

"Try me! At least give me a chance, it's better than what you did for two years." She was absolutely seething, her eyes wide and her lips pursed.

"I left."

"What?"

"I left, it was too much, I left. I took Rafael with me." Javier ran a hand through his hair and looked at her meaningfully. "It wasn't better."

The fact that he had said it was enough for every "I told you so" thought to flee from her mind. She sat down again. "How was it?"

"Terrible," he said with an honest face. "There was just nothing. No food, no money. Nothing. I don't think I've ever seen things that bad."

"Oh, Javier." She instinctively reached for his hand and squeezed it gently, pulling away the moment she realized what she'd done.

He gave her a puzzled look before continuing. "I had to bring Rafael with me. I didn't see how I could let him stay there with Carlos."

"How is Carlos?" Despite the fact that the little she knew of Carlos's nature was cocky and stubborn, she doubted he would abandon his own brother.

"He is… He has changed. There's not much I can do about it. He just wants money from the government, but he's supporting Castro all the way, even though Castro doesn't give him what he wants… I don't understand it." Javier wrung his hands out.

"It's illogical," Katey agreed.

"He would let his own sister suffer of food poisoning, just because the bread he brings home can't feed her, and now neither of us knows where she is." He swallowed, looking down. "It's better that way. She was sick."

"What happened?"

"I put her on a raft with my friend, Julio. He said he'd take good care of her. I don't even know where she is. She never wrote me."

Katey resisted from attacking him. It was clear that he could hardly stand to speak aloud what he was saying to her, and even clearer that he might break down soon. "It's okay, Javier. You're safe now. We'll find your sister. Everything will be fine."

"I know," he said, standing up straighter. "I know it will be fine. I came here for Rafael and me, and Chabe will be okay. She'll find me. Or I'll find her. It will be okay."

Though she knew he was telling himself more than her, Katey smiled.

"Enough about me," he said, snapping out. "You really do look… "

She raised her eyebrows, waiting for the word. "Settled?"

"Yeah, I guess." He offered her half a grin.

"It's a life." She sighed. "I started working here after…" _After losing you. After I couldn't decide if I wanted to dance anymore because every time I heard music it reminded me of you. After crying my eyes out every night for three months. _"… after I moved back," she finished lamely.

He seemed to know what she was thinking. "I don't dance anymore."

"I can't stop dancing."

Why was she doing this? Why was she having this conversation? Frank would be here soon, to see the show on Wednesdays the way he always did. Nevertheless, she was shocked. Javier without dancing was a world she didn't know. "You can't stop."

"But I did."

She assumed he just couldn't keep going with the lifestyle he had been forced into. Doubtless there had been no more time for dancing after the revolution, nor had there been anyone willing to dance. "Will you dance now? Now that you're here?" The words spilled out before she could stop them.

He grinned again. "I don't have a partner."

Javier stepped closer to her.

"That could be a problem," she murmured. No. No. Absolutely not.

His hand was in hers. Yes. Oh, yes. Wait. No. Definitely not.

"Maybe we can solve it?" Javier's forehead was pressed against hers.

"Maybe," she whispered, tilting her face to his. How long had she waited for this exact moment?

"Katey?" A male voice with a classic American accent was calling her name.

Shit.

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Katey pulled away from Javier immediately.

He instinctively reached for her again, tried to pull her close and hold her too him. The one moment of physical contact had somehow sent him into overdrive, his body and mind feeding on memories and the now to fuel his sexual hunger.

But there was that voice.

"Yes, Frank?" Katey was flushed. He prided himself on that flush.

A burly man wearing a bowler hat stepped into the room. "Hey, sweetheart, I was just checking up on you." He walked toward her and kissed her cheek. "And who is this?"

"This is Javier, Frank." Katey stepped away from him and under the arm of this Frank. "The new bartender. And… a very old friend."

The look on his face must have given away everything she was trying to hide, because her face was begging him to play it cool. To go along with it. So he smiled. For Katey. "Nice to meet you," he said, holding out his hand.

"Nice to meet you too, Javier," the man called Frank said. "I'm Frank, Katey's boyfriend."

It hit him like a shock wave. "Excuse me?" He kept shaking Frank's hand.

"I'm Katey's boyfriend, Frank," Frank said a little louder.

"Oh." Javier's hand dropped limply at his side as he nodded with wide eyes. "You're a lucky guy, Frank." He smiled. Instant recovery. Yet another thing he prided himself on.

"I know," Frank said, pulling Katey closer to him.

Javier looked directly at Katey. "If you'll excuse me now, I think I have to… mix some margaritas…"

He didn't wait for a response. He headed straight for the bar.

He wasn't surprised when he heard the clacking of woman's dance shoes behind him. He felt a familiar tingling as someone grabbed his elbow.

"I should have told you," she said.

"Forget about it," he replied. "We're in a working relationship now."

"We were always in a working relationship."

"Don't talk to me about always."

"You never wrote!"

"I never could."

"Don't look at me like that."

"Look at you like what?" He sighed. "You want to be with him? Fine. Be with him. But don't expect me to act like I'm not surprised."

"It's been two years!"

He furrowed his brow. "Is that what this is about? Time? You think you had to move on by now?"

Her mouth opened and closed a few times. "No. No! I mean, yes. NO! Of course not."

"Okay, Katey."

"You'll like him once you get to know him."

He exhaled very slowly. "Maybe, but I don't want to get to know him. I've had enough to deal with for a while now, don't you think?"

"Javier," she said softly, sounding defeated. Her grip on his arm loosened and out of habit he held her hand in his. "Please. Let's just… Let's try to find a balance."

"Fine."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Fine. It'll be fine." It will all be fine.

She smiled and moved her hand out of his. A wash of loss flooded him. "I promise this will be okay."

"Mmmhmm."

"We'll get used to it…" She sounded not so sure of herself.

"Katey?"

"Yes?"

"I should really get Rafael home."

"Oh. Oh, well, okay." She stepped away from him. "I'll see you tonight, Javier."

As he watched her retreat, he recalled how much he had missed her. He was not about to be one-upped by this Frank. Katey loved him and they both knew it. He just had to convince her to make the right choice. But how?

Whatever it was, he was going to do it. He couldn't go through the past two years again. He was going to get Katey back.

No matter what it took.

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A/N: Sorry it took so long to get this up guys! I figured since I posted two chapters last time it would hold you over. But all the reviews really did fuel me, so THANK YOU! I do love my readers. I didn't want to write the whole Javier-Is-Hurt thing because I think that's clichéd and it doesn't really fit the character (hello? The whole James war in the movie?) , so I think this works better (for my story, anyway).

My love and prayers go out to all the readers, authors, and people who are in/ have relatives in Louisiana. May all get home safely to the friends, family and love that await.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Wow! It feels like it's been forever, but I think it's only been about five days or something, huh? Sorry it took so long, like I said, my family is in the process of moving and it sucks. We have Pop-Tarts in our fridge and everything is in a box. Anyway, enough about me, I wanted to THANK ALL OF YOU for reviewing, you guys make my world. Keep 'em coming, I love to hear what you have to say! Oh, and, as far as the story is concerned… Please bear in mind that I don't have a plan nor do I have any idea what I'm doing. I just think of things as they come and I hope you like it!

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This was a very bad decision.

Two days after Javier had just walked right back into her life she was still reeling from their moment on the deck of El Ritmo. How wonderful it felt to be touched by him again, how her stomach threw itself around and around and how she hadn't felt this way since she was in Cuba.

But it was the right decision.

It was funny how the tables had turned, Katey mused to herself as she ran the round bristle brush through her hair. Now she was the one with dancing in her life always and Javier did not. She knew it was simply because of her good fortune, but still she could not seem to wrap her mind around it. What was Javier to her without dance? She wondered what he had meant by it. _"I don't dance anymore."_ The words rang out clearly in her head. Had he stopped once she had left Havana? Or maybe there just wasn't the time?

That was a silly question. He had hardly had the time when she was in Cuba, and after the revolution, when things really did seem to get bad, it would be even less likely that he had time to move his feet. _Besides_, she thought at once, _why would I want him dancing with someone else, anyway?_

She immediately regretted thinking it. Javier was not hers to dance with, or do anything else with for that matter. She had Frank now, and Frank was good to her. Certainly at times he could be inappropriate, and he had never understood her love for dancing or music, but he was unquestioningly supportive and she could thank him for that. He came to the show every Tuesday night without fail, and Katey knew in her heart of hearts that he did love her in his own way. He just had trouble expressing it directly to her.

_That didn't exactly bug you for the past six months, did it?_ She snarled at her own hypocrisy. It was absolutely not right for her to get caught up in the emotions of something that was over, that would remain over, and that she had absolutely no intention of continuing. Joyous though she was at Javier's arrival, she could not start a relationship while still under the terms of another.

"We go on in eight minutes, Katey," Marc said through the door.

"I'm coming."

"Frank isn't here today," he said, his grin practically visible through the door.

"Only Tuesdays, Marc, it's Thursday." Katey sighed.

"He comes every week, I'm used to it. When's the big day?"

"Oh…" Katey's voice got lost somewhere in her throat. "Well, Frank hasn't proposed yet."

"Really?" The hitch in Marc's voice was evident. "So technically, he's still available?"

"Marc…" Katey smiled with her admonishing tone. "He's straight."

"I know, I know. I like your bartender friend better, anyway. Is he-?"

"No," Katey said, suddenly stern. "What happened to Gregory?" She opened the door, a very questioning look on her face.

Marc threw up his hands. "They come and go."

"He went?" She gasped. The way Marc had gone on and on about Gregory, Katey had never imagined he would leave.

"No. He came. Trust me Katey, he came."

She slapped him playfully on the arm. "Let's go."

The show went well. She did her double turn and slid into a dip without any problems (lately she'd fallen into the habit of moving her right foot too fast, and as a result, slipping), and Marc seemed unusually energetic. It was, all in all, one of their better nights, and Katey could only thank God what with the anniversary party approaching on Saturday. They had finally fallen into the swing of their old routine, and at last she wasn't thinking about counting and head turns and dips and kicks. Instead she was beginning to lose herself to the music, an escape which she relished.

However, one thing she could not escape was a pair of eyes watching her very intently from the bar.

She could practically feel him breathing the beat, moving his toes, his eyes gazing impatiently to see if Marc was as good as he could be. She could tell he was disappointed, though she had only looked at him once throughout the show. Katey wasn't sure with what, though. Could he have been disappointed in her?

She brushed these thoughts aside for the final bow and made her way to the dressing room.

"He doesn't dip you as low as you want him to."

A voice thick laden with an accent startled her. "Excuse me?"

"He doesn't dip you as low as you want him to," Javier repeated. "And you're not moving as fast as you can either."

"Well, the next time I want your advice I'll ask for it, thanks."

"I thought we were friends now?"

"We are," she said haughtily.

"Why so hostile, if we are?"

She knew he was ready to one-up her. "I'm not being hostile." _Great comeback._

"I don't know…" he murmured, trailing off into a look of mock anxiety. "That sounded pretty hostile to me."

"I wasn't being hostile Javier, I promise."

"Prove it to me."

"What?" This was taking it too far.

"You heard me. Prove it to me. If you're not being hostile, show me just how friendly you are."

She raised her eyebrows. "Javier-"

"I'm not asking for anything major, Katey," he said mischievously, "although if you really want to work something out-"

"Javier!"

He grinned. "Prove it. Let me walk you home."

She looked downward, unsure. "Marc and I usually go together…" Please let him believe her. Please let him believe…

"I think he has alternate plans tonight."

"And just why do you say that?"

"I saw him leaving with some blonde guy," Javier said pointedly, moving his arm in a very feminine way to toss his hair.

Gregory. Katey cursed inside her head, but laughed despite herself.

"Come on, Katey," he said, his voice just a little lower. "Prove it."

"Okay, okay, fine!" She threw her hands up.

"You don't have to do me any favors, you know."

"No," Katey said at last. "It's fine. Let's… Let's walk together."

"Okay, sounds good to me." He grinned.

Ten thousand retorts burned on her tongue, but settling for opening her mouth several times, she turned around with an, "I just have to grab my stuff," only to hear him softly chuckling behind her.

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"Why won't you look at me?"

"Huh?"

The night was warm, and he was awfully close to her. These conditions did not leave much thinking space for Katey. "What do you mean?"

"You…" He shook his head. "The entire night. You wouldn't look at me. While you were dancing, I mean."

"Did you really mean what you said about the piece?"

"Yeah…" He gave a little laugh. "It's okay. You're just not suited as partners."

"We're okay," she said finally. "It's taken a lot of work, but it could be worse. And he's become a good friend."

"That's always good."

"Mmm."

"So?"

"So what?"

"So why didn't you look at me?" He turned to face her. "I thought we were friends."

"We are friends, Javier."

"I miss the way you look at me.

"Javier-"

"Okay, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have." He shrugged. "Your Frank… he seems like a nice guy anyway."

"You mean it?"

He swallowed. "Yeah. I mean it."

Katey laughed and looked at him again skeptically. "You're lying through your teeth. You hardly met him."

"Okay, I'm lying a little bit." He smiled.

"How are you and Rafael holding up?"

"I found a baby sitter just yesterday. You know. For when I'm at work. And the rent isn't that bad, so maybe… I don't know."

"You can stay with my family any time you need, you know that, don't you?" She seemed to say it all in one breath, as though she was letting it out one at a time.

He sucked in his breath. He knew that Katey was just saying this to be nice, but all the same. He didn't appreciate being spoken to as though he couldn't handle himself.

"I didn't mean-"

"I know," he said finally, trying to cool himself. "It's fine."

There was a bit of silence.

He looked upward before starting to say what he knew he had to. "Can I come to your practice tomorrow?"

She looked hesitant.

"Hey, technically I don't have to ask," he pointed out, waving his key to the door in front of her. "But I want to be polite, Miss Dancer, before intruding on your work sessions. I know how you get about that."

"Oh, come on, I wasn't that uptight!" She raised her eyebrows at him.

"Oh, no, not at all. Maybe just about as uptight as a metal rod."

She let her jaw hang in amused shock. "Well, for your information, _Mister_ Dancer," she said, poking him in the chest (a bit of contact he could, thankfully, laugh at without jittering all over the place), "I'm not nearly as rigid about rules. You saw how much I changed."

"Yeah, yeah you get a little credit. So can I come?" He looked at her hopefully, like a puppy dog.

"What for?" she asked warily, studying his face, as though seeing if it was marred with bad intentions.

"I just want to help you guys out. You said this anniversary dinner Saturday was very important?"

"It is very important." She sighed, sounding stressed. "The routine is just starting to work, you know? We're feeling it again. But…"

"It needs something more?" Javier looked down, pausing in front of her. "Let me help you."

"Help us? How can you help us?"

"If you're forgetting, I think I taught you most of what you're doing in that routine," he said smugly.

"And the Modesty Award of the Month goes to…."

"I mean it. You need the help. Marc's a nice guy. And," he added, dropping his voice lower and moving his face to hers, "I won't try anything. I promise."

She looked at him with steady eyes, eyes, he couldn't help but notice, that seemed to be fluttering with the sudden closeness of his face.

"Okay?"

"Okay," she sighed, sounding distracted.

He did something then, giving into temptation the way he had just promised not to, the way she had literally begged him days ago to stop. He let his hand slide gently along the smooth curve of her face, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb, leaning in and closing his eyes. He felt her breath slide against his lips, ready and waiting, just as his hand slid to her waist.

He stepped away from her suddenly.

"Promise is a promise."

Javier walked away without looking back, incredibly proud of himself.

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A/N: Hahahah! Sorry I kept you guys waiting, and I just had to throw in that last doozy. I know a lot of you are concerned about whether or not I will finish this fic, and I promise you I always finish what I start. I update anywhere from once a day to once every two weeks (this fic seems to be going on a once a week cycle). But you will all have your answers! This is just some good fluff, and at last I have some direction (after writing this chapter, I know just where the story is going), so trust me, keep reading and above all, keep REVIEWING!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: This one is a little short, but it came up pretty quick to make up for it (speed vs. length, the constant battle, I'm TRYING to be efficient, guys.). As usual, I am very grateful to all my reviewers, PLEASE keep reviewing, To all the readers, both those who review and those who don't, I love that you read my stuff anyway, and to hear from you (if I haven't already) will definitely make my world a better one.

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Katey walked into the tiny dancer's room of El Ritmo ten minutes early, expecting to find no one there.

Instead there was very much a blonde head popping out from under a table.

"Jess!" she yelped. "You're not supposed to be here for another two hours!"

He stood up and grinned. "Yeah, I know."

"What were you doing under the table?"

He pulled out a wrench from behind his back. "Loose screw," he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "I had to fix it. Manager's job, you know."

"Yeah…" She was suddenly uncomfortable, and unsure of where this conversation was going. "Well, I was going to meet Marc here. We were getting ready to practice for tomorrow..."

"Oh, right! Well, don't let me stand in your way," he said, stepping slightly away from her. "You're working really hard then?"

"Yeah. You know. Getting ready." Since when did Jess treat her like… well, like whatever this was?

"Your family's coming to see you?"

She smiled. "They're coming, yeah." She had yet to tell them of Javier's return and she didn't know how much they'd like it. Susie, of course, knew, but her relationship to Frank had been just her parents' dream. Now Jess's question had startled her into doubt.

"That sounds great, Katey…" He trailed off, walking toward the door. "I guess I'll leave you to your work then?"

Marc stepped into the room. "Hey, Jess."

"Hey, Marc." Jess gave a short wave. "I'm gonna leave you guys alone now. Right? Right. Right."

Jess stumbled out of the room, Marc's gaze following his every step till he met Katey's eyes. "Has Jess suddenly got keen on you, or something?"

"I hope not," Katey said swiftly. "I mean, I like Jess, it's just that…"

"Katey, relax," Marc said with a laugh, sitting on the very table Jess was fixing. "You're involved and in love… It's absolutely understandable." He shook the table. "Does Jess know there's a screw loose here?"

"Yeah, he was fixing it," she replied absently. It dawned on her that she hadn't yet told Marc that Javier would be joining them. Springing it on him at a moment's notice was not something she was sure he would appreciate, but she doubted he would be angry. "Listen, Marc-"

She was interrupted by the door opening and closing. Javier stepped inside.

Marc stood up immediately, looking rather pleased. "Well, hello there."

"Hello," Javier said with a light smile.

"Decided to join us, have you?" Marc shot a pleased look at Katey, who was tempted to roll her eyes. "You're welcome to stay and watch."

"Marc," Katey said suddenly. "Javier used to be a dancer, did you know that?"

"No, I didn't," Marc said, eyeing Javier. "You definitely have the right build."

"Well, he volunteered to help us out before the show tomorrow, and I told him we could use all we can get." Katey pleaded with Marc with her eyes. Please, please, say something. Anything.

But Marc seemed absolutely delighted. Boyfriend forgotten, Marc seemed just about ready to dive into Javier, now eyeing him like a very large piece of cheese to a very small mouse. "You're welcome to help us."

"I'm glad you said that," Javier said, looking as though he could sigh with relief. "I was watching you guys dance the other day and I thought I could help you… I noticed some things."

"Were you a teacher before?" Marc asked hopefully.

"No, but… I did do some amount of teaching. To partners." He glanced at Katey very quickly.

"Ah, yes, of course. Well, it's all part of a dancer's growth. Let's get to work, Katey."

After a few minutes of silent stretching, the couple stood up to Javier's watchful gaze from Jess's broken table. "I'll cue the record," he said. "Let me just watch the first time."

Marc and Katey went through the routine. Practicing was very different from performing, and with Javier in the room Katey was suddenly caught into a bag of nerves. She didn't want to look stupid, she didn't want to mess up. Dancing in front of him was completely different than dancing with him. She was so sure she wasn't nearly as good as she had been two years ago, when they had been partners, and she was even surer that he could see the difference. She also became suddenly conscious of how different Marc was as a partner. Javier had been sure, strong, and insistent, whereas Marc practically needed her to backlead most of the time. It was not a redeeming quality in a partner, though she suspected it had to do with Marc's primary training being in ballet rather than ballroom dancing.

Finishing silently, they turned to Javier, whose expression was both curious and intense.

"Well?" they asked finally.

He turned directly to Marcus. "You don't lead her."

"What?" Marc, who had never been addressed so directly before, looked surprised. "What do you mean?"

"She's doing her job but you're not leading her." He seemed to struggle to find the words. "You have to… take control. Show her where you're going and she'll follow you seamlessly, I promise."

As Javier tried to direct Marc, it became increasingly difficult from his seated position. They tried the combination again several more times but to no avail. Marc simply didn't understand exactly what Javier wanted from him.

Javier was getting frustrated.

"Show me, then!" Marc exclaimed finally. "Just show me. You only have to dance a few bars."

"We'd have to improvise. I don't know the combination." Javier waved his hand, but Katey saw a fuming red begin in his cheeks.

"I'm sure you can remember a couple of steps?" Marc looked helplessly from Javier to Katey. "I thought you came to help us."

Javier glanced at Katey. He was checking with her, asking for her permission.

What else could she do?

Nodding silently from behind Marc, Javier then stood up. "Can you cue the music?" He walked over to Katey as Marc sat down on the table. "Just watch me, okay?"

He met her eyes almost instantly. They only knew one combination. "Can we do this?" he murmured gently.

She nodded, almost breathless.

He took his place beside her, and the music began.

It was as though time had never passed. Katey was suddenly unaware of Marc sitting in a chair, or the studio she was standing in, or of her relationship with Frank. The only thing she could feel was this moment; this, right now, nothing else. Javier's eyes blazed as they danced. There was nothing fake or showy about this. They were having fun. He stepped and she followed, he bent and she kicked, he spun and she dipped. He was affectionate, strong, leading and she could only do her best to keep up. She was breathless from the laughter she felt bubbling inside of her and the passion that mixed so closely with it. His hands at her waist and running up and down her body made her painfully aware of what she'd missed the past two years. But he only smiled at her, and moved with her, flowing to their own beat and living in their own world.

And then the music stopped.

She was caught in his arms and she didn't want to move. Startled, Katey looked up at Javier. He looked just as thrilled as she felt.

She became dimly aware of Marc's clapping. "Yowza!" he cried. "You are some dancer. You just improvised all that?"

Katey looked at Javier.

"Something like that," he mumbled.

"Well, I bow down to the king," he said solemnly, with a slight bow of the waist. "Jesus, Katey. You didn't need a dance school if you were friendly with this guy!"

They laughed sheepishly, avoiding each other's gaze.

"Maybe we should try it again, Marc?"

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

"Katey, I just can't get over how good Javier is," Marc said, running a towel through his hair.

"Yeah, he used to-" The sentence stopped in her throat. "He used to be really well-known at a club we went to."

"You mean the club you danced together at."

"Yeah." She caught herself at once. "What? No."

"Katey, please. Do you think I'm stupid?" Marc looked her straight in the eye. "It's obvious you two used to dance together. You have… _amazing_ chemistry."

Protests made their way out of her mouth in the form of incoherent sounds.

"If I didn't know better," he continued, "I would've said you two were in love."

"We weren't in love." But Katey had never been good at lying through her teeth.

"He looks at you like you're the world." Marc said it simply, as though that made it fact. "Your dancing chemistry… I think it stretches somewhere else. You can tell me or you don't have to. But I've never seen Frank look at you like that, and I've never seen you smile like you did with him at Frank."

He paused, taking a deep breath. "I told you everything this past year because I wanted us to grow close. I don't want you to feel I'm making comments about your relationship with Frank. But… "

She looked at him. "But?"

"But you and Javier dance the way Gregory and I wish we would."

"Oh, Marc!" She couldn't help it then, throwing her arms around him.

"Geez, Katey," he said, sounding choked. "Let up on the airway a little, 'kay?"

She loosened her grip. "I'm sorry… it's just…"

"You do, don't you?"

She nodded. "Well, no. I mean, yes, we did. We did, oh god, we did. But… it's awfully complicated."

He looked at her in shock. "Katey, why are you crying?"

She looked at him. "It's just… I have so much to tell you."

A short while and three cups of coffee later, Marc was still incredulous.

"So did you ever hear from the Phelps guy again?" He stirred the sugar into his coffee.

"No," Katey said, sighing. "It's like I said. Javier took me home and the rest is history." Rehashing on the fond memories was something she hadn't done in so long.

"That's so romantic. No wonder you never answered when I asked you where you learned to dance." He winked.

"Well," she said, blushing smugly, "what I told you was true. I've really never been to a dance school."

"More like the school of Javier Suarez."

She slapped him playfully. "He is wonderful, though. I mean, he was."

"What makes you think he isn't now?" Marc raised his eyebrows.

"People change, Marc." Javier of course, hadn't changed at all. But she wasn't going to tell him she was thinking about him anymore, because that was absolutely scandalous considering her position with Frank.

"But it's obvious he still feels very strongly about you."

She bit her tongue in the temptation to ask how.

"It's in how he looks at you," he said, answering her unspoken question. "And I don't think it's fair for me to dance this show. I think you and Javier should do it."

"What? No, no, absolutely not." She shuddered into her coffee. "Frank will be there."

"Is Frank a concern?" Marc raised his eyebrows again. "I never liked him. Javier is much better looking as far as I'm concerned."

"I'm just…" she sighed again. "I'm worried that Javier was right. That I'm dating Frank just because I thought enough time had passed for be to be dating again."

"Are you?" Marc sipped his coffee.

It was a question she had worried herself with ever since Javier had returned. Fearing more and more that he was right as she began to see how bland her relationship with Frank was, she knew something had to be done. She just wasn't sure what.

"Anyway, I think you both should do it. Gregory will be there and I'll have fun anyway."

"Just how would you explain it to Jess?" Katey looked at him skeptically. "Javier and I… I don't know where we stand yet, Marc. I just want to feel things out a little. Let's do this tomorrow."

Marc stayed silent.

"Promise me, Marc."

"Okay, I promise."

"You promise what?"

"I promise to dance the show with you." He waved an imaginary white flag. "You got me."

"Good." She nodded her head in triumphant succession. "I'll figure out what to do about… about the situation with Javier. You just keep dancing with me."

Though she wasn't very sure what to do at all.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

A/N: I know nothing really important happened in this one, but PLEASE bear with me and stick around. The next one is going to be super fabulous, super long, and super action-packed! I don't want to give too much away but we're talking dance show (who will she dance with?), words from Frank, some interesting happenings with Susie, a LOT of Javier and Katey action, and a mysterious interruption… hmmm… Come back for all that! I'm looking forward to writing it definitely as much as you are to reading it. Love you guys, please review!


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